


Impact parameter

by AndromedaSmith



Series: Starstruck: Karamel One-Shots [5]
Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Christmas Decorations, F/M, Karamel Secret Santa 2020, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:34:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27919825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndromedaSmith/pseuds/AndromedaSmith
Summary: Late in the DEO’s night shift, a mostly-ordinary moment in the midst of two far-from-ordinary lives.
Relationships: Imra Ardeen/Mon-El, Kara Danvers & Mon-El, Kara Danvers/Mon-El
Series: Starstruck: Karamel One-Shots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1852360
Comments: 10
Kudos: 20





	Impact parameter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChelseaEllie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChelseaEllie/gifts).



> Set between 3x08 and 3x09. Inspired by a prompt from heartmel_wood on Twitter: “Someone please write an ‘after work Karamel alone in the DEO’ fic”.

The DEO never sleeps. Hostile aliens don’t care about Earth’s timezones; someone always has to be on watch for trouble. The overnight shift was on duty, quiet and alert, with nothing to do for the moment. The DEO never sleeps, but that doesn’t mean that it can’t lean back in its chair and close its eyes for just a minute. 

Supergirl strode down a hallway, her suit a splash of colour against the building’s subdued lighting and the black uniforms of the few agents on duty. Her stance was confident, eyes high, but her shoulders were just a bit rounded and her eyes lacked some of their usual sparkle. Hints of dark circles showed under those baby blues.

She stopped at a doorway, leaned in. The motion sensor light switch activated, showing softly whirring machines with blinking lights and shelves full of lab supplies. Shaking her head, Supergirl continued her rounds, apparently deep in thought. The soft click of her boot heels on the hard floor punctuated the whirring machine sounds as they faded into the distance.

Her feet took her downstairs toward the training room. From the corridor she could see the lights blazing, hear the sounds of someone breathing heavily. Who would be training at this hour? Suddenly a shadow within the room turned and resolved itself into a familiar profile. She tilted her head and listened; an unmistakable heartbeat rose above the background noise. Quietly, she turned away and reversed course.

The balcony was unoccupied, a good location for a Kryptonian with a lot on her mind. Kara slipped outside and raised her eyes to the sky, thinking of a good man lost to his loved ones and a horrible woman who had shared her own face. A visit begun in joy and laughter, ended in relief and hope, with little but terror and pain in between. At least Alex had come through safely, perhaps even with the edge of her sadness blunted a little. 

Sounds of the city below drifted up: brake squeals, dog barks, human shouts — some angry, some joyful. So different from Earth-X, where nearly all the sounds had been of horror and agony. It was good to be home. Except that soon she’d have to face Mon-El and his beautiful wife again, a quieter kind of pain.

Leaning on the parapet, Kara bowed her head to her hands, letting the feelings wash over her. Alex would tell her it was good to let them out. She’d thought about calling her sister, but Alex was human and needed to rest. She could have called Eliza, but Eliza would have worried and explaining the whole complicated story just seemed like … too much. So Kara stood on the balcony and breathed deeply, letting her tears flow, trying not to break into great wracking sobs. Finally she stood up, pulled her shoulders back, and went inside. What else could she do? Get up, keep going.

Propped against the wall in a dark corner just inside the balcony was a figure in sweatpants and hoodie, the same one whose shadow Kara had seen in the training room. She didn’t see him or feel his eyes on her as she strode past.

* * *

Mon-El watched Kara on the balcony, her head down and shoulders shaking. Something had obviously happened to her since Alex told him that Kara was Supergirl, she was fine. But it didn’t exactly seem appropriate to just walk up to her and ask. She was in enough pain and he didn’t need to add to it by showing up. Eventually she pulled herself up, shook it off and started to move again, the way she always did. 

After Kara left the balcony, he waited a few minutes to assure himself she wasn’t coming back then took her place outside. The same place where he had said goodbye to her, seemingly a lifetime ago, before giving himself up to his parents. The same place where he had stood next to her, just a few nights ago, and broken her heart.

The wind blew dust across his face, stinging his tired eyes. Blinking furiously, he ran a hand through his hair, sighed, and tilted his head back. The sky looked … wrong, somehow. He finally realized it wasn’t his exhaustion. He’d spent a lot more time under the Earth’s sky in the thirty-first century than in the twenty-first and precession and stellar motion meant that the stars really were in different locations. Imra would have known that right away, would have teased him about it. But she was unconscious in their temporary quarters while residual cryosleep insomnia had him wandering the DEO.

So strange, to be here again. To see Kara again. The thought of her, the _idea_ of her, was all that had kept him going for so long. And now she was right in front of him and somehow he was the one who had made the light in her eyes dim, made her face crumple. Kara didn’t deserve that. But what else could he have done? Imra was his partner. And _she_ was so happy to finally meet Supergirl, the hero he’d told her so much about. That pain, though, in Kara’s eyes... Unconsciously his hand fidgeted with the silver chain around his neck.

He brought his gaze down from the sky, looked at his feet. Talk about being brought back to Earth. What else could he do? Get up, keep going. Figure out how to get back home where they were needed. Mon-El shrugged and headed back inside. He might as well see if the DEO break room still had the snack machine with those — what were they called? Ring Dongs?— that Winn had been so fond of. Behind the thirty-first century in most ways, the twenty-first was well ahead in its variety of non-nutritious-but-tasty food. Might as well enjoy it while he was here.

* * *

Leaving the balcony, Kara remembered something Alex had mentioned to her before they left: a memo from HR explaining that they couldn’t put up the break room’s holiday lights in their usual location near the ceiling. Supposedly there wasn’t enough money left over in the budget for ladder training. _Ladder training!_ Kara snorted. The elite agents of the DEO could be trusted to protect the Earth, face hostile aliens of all sorts, and foil evil-doers’ schemes, but, apparently, not to avoid falling off a ladder. A small smile grew on Kara’s face, and some of the twinkle found its way back to her eyes. _She_ didn’t need a ladder...

Her feet took her down to the break room without her brain thinking much about the direction. Kara took a moment just to breathe in its familiar ordinariness, definitely less glamorous than the upstairs conference room. Scratched-up metal tables and chairs glinted in the low light; it had been a long time since the scuffed floor reflected anything. HR notices covered a bulletin board at one end of the room while the other end held a small countertop dominated by the microwave and coffee machine—the DEO went through a _lot_ of coffee—and the communal fridge. As she’d expected, the room was deserted: the night shift agents had already had their midnight break and the cleaning staff wouldn’t be in for a few more hours. 

She rummaged in a slightly grimy metal cabinet between the bulletin board and snack machines. Pam from HR would have had a fit at the mess inside: the plastic Hallowe’en pumpkins were completely jumbled up with shiny Valentine’s Day heart garlands, dusty Christmas ivy, and a “Happy Birthday” banner. When Kara pulled on the tangled mess of LED light strands, an entire basket’s worth of plastic Easter eggs fell out of the cabinet and rolled across the floor. A roll of tape followed them, wobbling crazily as it rolled across the room.

Kara sighed, collected the eggs, and shoved them back in the cabinet. She sat on the floor and began to untangle the light strands. Concentrating, she bit her lower lip and methodically pulled and untwisted. At the other end of the darkened room, the vending machines hummed quietly. The footsteps and voices of a pair of agents in the corridor drifted past. In her position, she was below their eye level and they didn’t even notice her. The sight of her untangling light strings wouldn’t have fazed them — DEO agents saw many stranger things — but she did wonder what the average citizen of National City would have made of Supergirl sitting on the floor of this nondescript basement room, cursing under her breath at the snarl of wires.

Finally finished untangling, Kara plugged the light strands in to check that they worked. The little lights blinked their colours across her face and she hummed her satisfaction. How to attach them to the wall? Micro bursts of heat vision could melt the plastic coating on the wires just enough to make them stick, but doing that would doubtless get her in trouble with Pam. Kara left the light strands glowing while she used her X-ray vision to hunt for the roll of tape. Eventually she found it wedged underneath the fridge. Light string and tape in hand, she rose slowly toward the ceiling.

* * *

Peering through the half-open slats of the break room’s blinds, Mon-El was surprised to see movement inside and multi-coloured shadows streaking across the floor. He could see a blue-and-red clad figure ... up near the ceiling? Kara in her Supergirl suit, floating near the ceiling and doing something with strings of coloured lights. He couldn’t see her eyes, but there was a tiny smile on her face. Apparently she still loved Christmas and every other human holiday. The memory of his first Earth Thanksgiving brought a tiny smile to his own face.

The smile transformed itself into a frown of indecision: should he go in, or just leave her alone? She had looked so upset earlier. He had to know if she was okay and try to help if she wasn’t. He owed her that much.

Decision made, Mon-El stepped through the doorway. The familiar smell of burnt coffee hit him, bringing with it a rush of memories. Sitting at a corner table, listening with half an ear and trying not to stare at Kara while Winn explained the nuances of the _Star Wars_ chronology. Gathering around one of the long central tables where Vasquez and Dana were trying to blow out the candles on their shared birthday cake. Wrapping his arm around Kara, watching her demolish enough lunch for three humans. Those events seemed so long ago, but the surroundings were surprisingly unchanged … oh, of course: seven months, not seven years. 

He crossed the room to where Kara was floating, attaching the lights just below the top of the wall. She had to have heard his footsteps but she didn’t react until he was right below her. She turned her head to look down at him and her smile faded. Even in the semi-darkness, he could see the tear tracks on her cheeks. A flash of sadness crossed her face before she steeled her features to a more neutral expression. Mon-El winced and tried to force his own expression into something calm, reassuring. Wordlessly, he plucked the next light strand from the floor and held it up to her like an offering. 

She nodded slowly but didn’t speak. Accepting his help, she took the light strand from where it stretched up toward her, careful not to touch his hand. In companionable silence they worked their way around the room. With only a few feet of light strand left, they reached the starting point. Kara’s small smile showed her satisfaction. She glanced at the box of ivy sitting on a table and over at him, a questioning look on her face. He nodded and they repeated their orbit of the room, Mon-El passing the strands of ivy up to Kara who taped them to the wall.

Kara hummed a tune Mon-El didn’t recognize. The ice maker in the fridge clattered and they both startled. Exchanging rueful smiles, both exhaled and they resumed their task. It was oddly calming, just being near her in this familiar place; he could feel the tension across his temples recede. It helped that she seemed to be relaxing as well, the tightness in her shoulders easing and her jaw unclenching.

After taping the last of the ivy to the wall, Kara descended slowly to the floor. She took a step toward Mon-El and they locked eyes. She might have calmed down, but pain still lingered in her expression. He held her eyes, poured all of the fondness and gratitude he felt in her presence into his return gaze. He opened his mouth to speak. Kara flinched, stepped back. His lips closed: there was more to say, but not now.

She turned away from him, carrying the empty ivy box back to the cabinet. Mon-El retreated toward the door. Eyelids drooping, he turned and headed down the hall toward his quarters, and Imra. After a few minutes, Kara followed him out the same door on her way to the balcony. Her face was calm and her eyes dry, if still missing their sparkle. Stepping outside, she shot up into the sky and headed for home.

Left behind, the little lights cast shadows across the empty room.

**Author's Note:**

> In astronomy, “impact parameter” refers to the distance at closest approach between two particles in a collision if there were no gravitational force between them.


End file.
